


Until Death Do Us Part

by HPFandom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Multi, Romance, Sexual Content, Spoilers, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-09
Updated: 2006-02-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 06:38:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10183076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HPFandom_archivist/pseuds/HPFandom_archivist
Summary: "Harry, did you know that Snape had a wife?" Oneshot.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

Disclaimer: Not only do I not own the major characters in this story (with the exception of the former Lana Lane), I also do make any money from playing with them. The only thing I get is the inner peace that comes from finishing a great piece. So here goes.

 

UNTIL DEATH DO US PART

“I love you, Severus.”

“Do you now?” Snape quirked a black eyebrow.

“Yes, of course. I love you – despite your biting sarcasm, your horrible temper, and your nasty pessimism.”

“Indeed. And despite my huge ugly nose, my greasy hair, and my yellow teeth, as well?”

“No. That’s part of what I love about you, my darling.”

Snape rolled his eyes. He was reclining in bed with the dark green sheets pulled up to his waist and his bare back against the walnut headboard of the four-poster bed he shared with his wife, Lana. She stood at the foot of the bed, very slowly unbuttoning her midnight blue robes, revealing golden skin. She let the robes fall to the floor before climbing into the bed with her husband.

“And you know what else I love?” she purred, snuggling in close to him and resting her head on his shoulder.

“What?”

“This.” Her hand slid ever so slowly under the sheet to caress his hardening prick.

“Yes,” she said after a moment. “This must be my favourite little bit of you. There are so many things I can do to it. Like this.” She slid her hand to the very tip, the most sensitive part, and pressed the tiny opening hard with her index finger. Severus threw his head back and moaned loudly. No matter how many nights he spent with this beautiful wife, it always felt like the first. He loved her – truly and deeply – and there was no way he could ever forge it. He’d loved her from the minute he’d first laid his onyx eyes on her. He remembered that day so clearly.

 

It was a very cloudy September 1st, and King’s Cross station was extremely crowded. A small, skinny teenager could just be seen through the throng, dragging a heavy trunk behind him toward Platform 9. Well, at least it seemed as though he was looking for Platform 9. Really he was on his way to Platform 9 ¾, which was just between platforms 9 and 10. While the boy had never done this before, he knew it would be easy. His mother had told him how.

And so after several more minutes of struggling through the crowd with his trunk and disappearing through the very solid brick wall between 9 and 10, the little boy found himself staring at the huge red engine of the Hogwarts Express.

He found a compartment easily and put his trunk away by himself. As he watched the other children out of the train window, he felt a pang in his heart, all the other children had parents saying goodbye and wishing them good luck. His parents couldn’t leave off fighting long enough to Floo him to the train station, let alone stand there to tell him goodbye . . .”

A small tear trickled down his left cheek, and he hastily wiped it away. He wasn’t supposed to cry. It made him weak, or so his father said.

“Is this seat taken?” asked a small girl about the same age as the little boy. She stood in the door of the compartment holding a book satchel.

“No.”

“Well it is now,” the girl said, sitting down and tossing her satchel into the seat beside her. “I’m Lana Lane. And what’s your name?”

“Severus Snape,” he ground out, wishing this girl would just leave him alone.

“Well, hi. I’m gonna be in Slytherin. What about you?”

“Slytherin, I guess. But no one really knows, do they?”

“No,” Lana sighed. She leaned over to her bag and pulled out a thick book. Severus tried not to watch as she opened the book and removed a silken ribbon from somewhere in the middle, but the glinty gold title on the book caught his eye.

“Dark Arts: Their Uses and Importance in Today’s Society?” Severus’ eyebrow quirked.

“Yeah. Have you read it?”

“Not that edition, no. My father has an older volume.”

“Did you like it?” She let the open book fall across her lap.

“It was an immensely enjoyable piece.”

Lana giggled. “You sure do talk funny! Anyway, I’ve got the old one, too, but my parents bought me the new one for my birthday.”

As the girl engrossed herself in her book, Severus took the liberty of looking her over. She had very long, very dark hair; long, thick, fluttery eyelashes, and black eyes. Her face was small and somewhat pixie-like, and when she brought a thin hand up to push her hair out of her face, Severus caught sight of tiny, pointy elf-ears. In that moment, he knew that someday he would marry her – that most beautiful of creatures.

 

“And you know what else I love about you?” Lana asked playfully, yanking the sheets off her husband and exposing his leaking cock, which her little hand was still firmly stroking.

“What?” Severus gasped, his one word coming out more like a cry of desperation.

“These.” Her hand left his penis to fondle his swollen testicles.

Severus was soon panting. All of this torture! He wanted to come, and badly, but he’d always felt guilty if his wife didn’t climax at exactly the same time.

“What do you love about me?” she asked, puling back and gazing into his gleaming eyes.

“What do I love?” Severus repeated, looking his wife up and down. “I – I love everything.”

She took his hand and laid it on one of her full little breasts.

“Show me,” she murmured.

He moved his hand to caress a nipple before sliding his other one down her side to rest on her hip.

“Lie on your back,” he whispered in her ear. She quickly obeyed, letting her long, slim legs fall open.

“Severus,” she panted, “Please. Now.”

He knelt between her legs, meaning to prepare her before he entered her. With one hand, he continued to massage her breast and roll her hard little nipple between his long, bony fingers. His other hand slid down to her dark patch of curls.

“Oh!” she groaned as his deft fingers found her most sensitive little spot. “Oh! Oh! Yes! Severus! Please!”

Not being able to hold himself back any longer, Severus positioned himself at her entrance and nudged against her, gently. She arched her back and wrapped her lean legs around him, drawing him in.

They set of a slow, steady pace. Severus kept his right thumb buried in her curls, constantly rubbing circles around her clitoris. Making love this way was more exerting on him, as he felt more like he was doing a one-armed push-up, but he knew it pleased Lana more. And anything that pleased Lana was worth doing.

They kept up the slow pace throughout their session, never changing speeds, and when they at last climaxed, it was so beautiful, so calming, and so satisfying, that the only thing left for them to do was to fall asleep in each other’s arms.

“I love you, Severus,” Lana said into her husband’s neck.

“I love you,” was the barely audible reply.

 

It was the hottest part of the hottest day of a record-breakingly hot summer in England. Three teenagers, whose names were Harry, Ron, and Hermione, were lounging in the library of a very old house called number twelve, Grimmauld Place. There were supposed to be researching something very important; something that would possibly lead to the Dark Lord’s demise, but it was far too hot to get anything done.

“Whoever this RAB is,” the boy names Ron moaned, “I don’t think we’re ever going to find him.”

“Yes we will!” Hermione snapped. “He’s got to be here somewhere!”

“Hey, guys! Look at this!” Harry dropped an armload of parchments on the floor near his two friends.

“They’re old newspapers!” Hermione exclaimed, snatching the one on top and scanning it. “They’re from sixteen or seventeen years ago. Harry, your birth announcement might well be in one of these!”

“Here’s one,” Ron said, holding it up to look at the headline. “You-Know-Who’s Greatest Mistake. It’s about the night your parents died. Look, here’s a picture.”

“And here’s another! Harry Potter Holiday Proposed. Gee, Harry. I didn’t know Halloween was your own personal holiday!”

“Knock it off, guys,” Harry scowled.

Ron pulled another newspaper off the top and glanced at the headline. His eyes widened and his face paled.

“Harry, did you know Snape had a wife?”

Harry dropped the newspaper he was holding and stared at his best friend. “What?”

“Yeah. And she was kidnapped. Listen.”

Lana Snape, age twenty-two, was kidnapped outside of her home on Thursday night. The official Ministry investigation turned up no clues. Mrs. Snape was discovered missing after she did not turn up for her own birthday party, her husband reported.

“She was supposed to arrive at around seven-thirty,” Severus Snape stated. “It had been a surprise party, but she knew about it, and she was supposed to arrive at the Leaky Cauldron Pub in London, but she never showed up.”

Mr. Snape returned home to find his wife missing and promptly contacted the Ministry.

“She had been working in the garden” Snape reported. “The tools were all still in the garden, but she wasn’t. My wife is incredibly neat. She would never leave all of that lying about. That’s how I knew something was wrong.”

The investigation turned up a few signs of a violent struggle, but the kidnapper left no clues which could be followed.

“We have several theories as to how this happened,” Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, commented. “But as this investigation is yet ongoing, I cannot make any further statements, except to say that the Ministry is working as hard as we can to find the missing woman.”

Mrs. Snape is five feet, three inches tall. She has long black hair and black eyes. If anyone knows anything of her whereabouts, they are urged to contact the Ministry of Magic’s Department of Magical Law Enforcement.”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at one another sadly.

“I guess we know why he was always so grumpy, then,” Harry breathed. He could not help feeling sorry, even for his most hated professor.

“That’s so horrible!” Hermione turned to Ron and took his hand. “I can’t imagine what I would do if you were kidnapped.”

“Did she get found again?” Ron asked eagerly, sifting through the newspaper stack. There was no more mention of the case at all in any of the papers after that. Apparently, Mrs. Snape never made it home.

Despite himself, Harry let a tear trickle down his face. He wasn’t sure why he was crying, only that he felt sure he would have treated Snape differently had he known . . .

“I wonder what else we don’t know about Snape?” Ron said, shaking his head and giving Hermione’s hand a tight squeeze.

 

“Who among you has remained loyal? Who has devoted themselves, heart, soul, and body to me? To our cause?”

Bellatrix Lestrange stood up and looked directly into Voldemort’s eyes.

“I have, My Lord. I have suffered Azkaban for you. I did not renounce your ways! I alone have remained loyal!”

“What’s this rubbish?” Her husband stood. “I, too, have weathered Azkaban. I would rather have died than denounce the cause!”

“You weathered Azkaban, yes,” said the hook-nosed man seated on the Dark Lord’s right, “but what good did you do our Lord there? I have been stuck at that miserable school, teaching that lot of miscreants. I have laboured under that crooked-nosed, Muggle-loving fool for sixteen years. I worked longer and harder than any of you. I KILLED DUMBLEDORE!”

The other Death Eaters seated at the table erupted into loud arguments, but Bellatrix’s voice was heard over all of the others.

“You lie! You lie! You were spying for him! You’re a traitor!”

“Enough!” Voldemort hissed. “Enough of this bickering. The question was rhetorical, Bellatrix. Now, do you know what that means or do I have to have Severus explain it to you?”

Bellatrix – very red in the face – sank slowly back into her chair and stared at the old oaken table at which she and her fellow Death Eaters were seated. The Dark Lord, at the head of the table, turned around and shouted to a servant woman standing in the corner.

“Fetch more wine!” He turned back to his other servants. “I have gathered you all here to discuss the execution of my plans. With Dumbledore out of the way, my path to Harry Potter is clear, and none may stop me this time.”

The Dark Lord continued in this vein for quite some time. By the time he had ended his little speech, the woman had returned with the wine and already served everyone. As she made once more for her corner, the tray with on which she carried the wine bottle slipped from her hands, landing very nearly in Severus’ lap. As the poor woman bent to pick it up, apologizing profusely, the Dark Lord began to laugh.

“That was very amusing, indeed!” He said through his cold laughter. “Now what do you say we have some more fun? How many would like to hear her scream?”

The servant woman sobbed and fell onto her knees beside her master.

“Please, My Lord,” she kissed the hem of his robes. “Please, do not hurt me! I promise you better service than tonight! I am not well this evening. I could not hold the tray. Please, My Lord, spare me. Show me mercy!”

“Get off my robes, you filth! You are fortunate I have not thought of this many years ago!”

She scrambled backward, trying desperately to get away as the dark Lord stood and advanced on her. Seeing his chance, Severus stood quickly and cried out, “MY LORD!”

Voldemort turned, glaring at his most faithful servant. 

“My Lord. You said that you might discuss my reward with me. My Lord, if it please you, let me have the girl. It has been many years since I last had pleasure such as she can bring. Please, My Lord. I beg you.”

The Dark Lord paused, thinking. “Yes,” he murmured. “Yes. Yes. It is satisfactory. But of course, you must not forget to give us the details – all of them. It has indeed been long since you engaged in any – activities.”

“My Lord, might I –”

“Take her now? My, but you are eager. Yes, you may go.”

Severus bowed, and with a hurriedly mumbled, “My Lord,” was gone, dragging the haggard woman after him. 

In the corridor just outside, Severus drew the woman close by her bony wrist.

“You’d better be grateful to me,” he hissed in her ear. “I just saved your life!”

“Saved my life,” the woman growled. “Yeah, and to do what with? Am I to bend to your will and become your slave? I have done with that, sir, and I refuse to be grateful to you! I would rather die!” She tried to pull away – tried to escape – but his grip tightened on her arm, leaving a ring of bruises.

“LOOK AT ME!” he shouted, bringing his other hand up to rest under her chin and wrench her face upwards. What he saw startled him. Jet-black eyes mirrored his own out of a sooty, golden, pixie face. Severus let her go and took a shocked step backward.

“Lana?” he gasped, clutching at his chest as though in pain.

“He said you wouldn’t remember,” she whimpered. “He said he’d wiped your memory. He said you would hate me.”

“What?”

“He did.” She was on the verge of tears. “He told me that. He told me you would never love me. He was right, wasn’t he? You hate me!”

Severus darted forward so fast he even scared himself. He caught Lana in his arms and tucked her against his body, kissing her frantically despite the grime that covered her from nose to toe.

“I never gave up hope of finding you!” He whispered between kisses. “Oh, God, Lana. I never gave up!”

She was sobbing now, clutching his robes, afraid he might vanish suddenly. They stood there for many long moments, just holding each other. Finally breaking apart, Lana grasped Severus’ hand and dragged him toward a door at the end of the corridor.

“Where are we going?”

“To my chambers. There is someone I want you to meet.”

To say Severus was confused would be beyond an understatement, but he went with his wife anyway, through the door and down a huge, dark, curved staircase. They disappeared through another door which led into a tiny stone chamber, lit only with two stumps of wax candles burning in brackets on the wall. Two cot-like beds occupied the space, and a dark-haired teenager lay asleep in one. Lana went over and began to wake him.

“Christopher, darling. You have to wake up. Your father is here.”

Severus collapsed backwards, barely managing to catch the wall for support.

“F-f-father?” he stammered, trying to straighten himself back up.

“Yes,” Lana mumbled. “You’re his father.”

The teen sat up, rubbing his eyes. When at last he drew his hands away from his face, Severus saw piercing dark eyes staring out at him from underneath heavy black eyebrows and from beneath a curtain of shoulder-length black hair.

“The bastard if my father?” the boy growled defensively.

“Yes, sweetheart.”

The boy, Christopher, stood slowly and stalked, almost cat-like, toward the man his mother called his father.

“He looks like me,” Severus said slowly. “He has my hair, my eyes, my nose . . .” he trailed off as Christopher slowly circled him, his black eyes glittering strangely.

“Why did you not come to us before?” Christopher asked in a low growl.

“I didn’t know you were here.”

“Liar,” Chris hissed. “You knew all along. The Dark Lord said so.”

“He lied, then. I had no idea.”

“He said you abandoned us – that you abandoned my mother, my pregnant mother – to the streets, and that he so mercifully took us in.”

“The Dark Lord is the best liar in all of England, boy! You cannot trust a word he says.”

“Perhaps the Dark Lord would like to know that. It is very interesting coming from his most faithful servant.”

“Chris!” Lana snapped. “If you say one more word like that to your father, I shall have to punish you.”

Christopher instantly pulled back his assault, but his eyes continued to glitter evilly. Once he was able to put his guard down, Severus turned back to his beloved wife.

“You cannot stay ere. Both of you will come with me to Spinner’s End.”

“Why,” Chris spat. “Why should we go with you?”

“Because,” Lana began gently.

Severus cut in. “Because I have just saved the both of you from a fate worse than death. You will come and stay with me and . . .”

“And what? Pretend like nothing happened?”

“Christopher, that’s enough!” Chris sulked in the darkness, nursing his wounded defense. It wasn’t often that his mother reprimanded him. Why should she begin now?

“You’ve indulged him, I see.” Severus spoke quietly, but his tone was of great disappointment.

“I’m so sorry, darling. I didn’t mean –”

“And I suppose you’ve neglected his education, as well?”

“That is not true! He was accepted into Durmstrang near six years ago!”

“I see. And did you send him?”

“Of course I did!”

“How did you pay for books?”

“Do you really want to know that?”

“Lana . . .”

“Don’t you Lana me, Severus Snape! Was the Dark Lord right, then? Do you really want to know the truth about the past seventeen years, or do you even care?”

“Tell me. But not here. Someplace safe. Pack whatever you have that you wish to keep. And quickly. It isn’t safe here anymore.”

They were packed in under a minute, having very little worth packing. After that, they each grasped Severus’ arms tightly and were taken to a street not far from Spinner’s End.

“Quickly. Come on.” Severus took off down the road with his robes billowing out behind him.

“This is it?” Chris asked as, raising his eyebrow sceptically. “This is where you live?”

“Severus,” Lana laid a hand on her husband’s arm. “What happened to it?”

“I have hardly lived here these years. I have spent much of my time at Hogwarts, aiding Dumbledore in his never-ending quest to ward and protect the school and its students.”

“I hate to think what it looks like inside.”

“It isn’t ad. I have had a personal servant since last summer. The Dark Lord granted me possession of Peter Pettigrew, who is now dead, but I had him at my disposal.”

The three of them entered the living room, which was filled wall to wall with bookcases.

“Chris, your room is upstairs to the left.”

“So where are the stairs, then?”

“Behind this panel!” Severus strode to it. “You hit this switch.

“Strange,” Christopher mumbled, taking the stairs two at a time up to his new bedroom.

“Sever –” Lana’s whisper was broken with a forceful kiss to her lips. Sixteen years they hadn’t seen each other. So they made up for it, and three hours later, they finally had the decency to erect a few silencing charms.

 

. . . . Three Months Later . . . .

“Are you ill?” Severus asked his wife one evening.

“Why would you think that?”

“Because you haven’t gained even a half-stone in weight since I found you.”

“Severus –”

“TELL ME!”

“Okay. Yes, I’m ill. Happy?”

“What is it?”

“Cancer,” she said after a long pause.

“No!” Severus said in disbelief. “No!”

“Yes.”

“How long? How long have you –”

“How long have I to live? By the last estimate, about two months.”

“Two months? But – but – how? Why?”

“Why haven’t I told you? Because I didn’t want you to worry. I wanted everything to be like normal. I wanted to give Chris a chance to have a mother and a father before . . .”

“Lana . . .”

“No, Severs. Don’t say anything about it. I’ll not hear a word. I want everything to stay the same as long as possible. Please.”

Severus sighed. How could he argue with a dying woman?

Lana Snape lived out the rest of her two months as though nothing had happened. She was a strong woman, but in the end, even Chris realized that she was ill. She was confined to her bed for only three days before she drew her very last breath.

“I love you both,” were her very last words before she sank onto her pillows, a peaceful smile gracing her lips.

The pain that had wracked her body at the end was nothing compared to the agony which now gripped her husband’s torn heart.

Lana’s funeral was beautiful. It was not so grand a scale as that of Albus Dumbledore. In fact, there were only five people attending: the distraught husband; the son Christopher; and three teenagers, two boys and a girl, named Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Severus delivered the eulogy, and no one present could deny that it was lovely.

Christopher and his father had not gotten along when Lana was alive, but they found that their grief brought them together. After the funeral, after Lana’s casket had been covered and her headstone placed, both Severus and his son knelt at her grave and wept, together, with the other three teens standing some distance away, also crying.

 

Over the years, both Severus and his son continued to visit Lana, but age and infirmity soon took their toll, and only Chris came. And many, many years later, not even he came anymore, although his children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren kept her grave free of weeds. But no one mourned for Severus when at last death bore him away, for they all knew he was just rejoining his beloved – his Lana. And this time, not even death could come between them.


End file.
